The room was bright, and smelled like disinfectant. You know the smell every hospital has. I watched as the frail boy, not a man anymore, lay in the bed. The sheet's as white as the walls and the floor.

Lance was sitting at his side, holding his hand. If only we could have gotten to him sooner. At least we got to him, before he seriously did any damage. I mean, he's caused enough, but I wish I could have helped sooner, then now. Maybe now he wouldn't be here.

He looks so fragil, laying there, so thin. I saw it before, why couldn't Lance see it. I watched as my lover sat next to my best friend, holding his limp hand. I know Lance feels bad. You could see it in his crystal green orbs. You could see that he was going to do everything in his power to help the boy laying in the bed. I loved him for it. He was my rock and I know, I'm confident, that he will do everything to help.

I slowly made my way into the room and over to the bed, laying a comforting hand on Lance's shoulder. Causing him to look up with me, giving me a weak smile, before turning back to the bed.

"When he gets out, we aren't letting him out of our sights. We'll move him into our house and help he get better." His voice was laced with tears, his orbs, rimmed with red from crying so much.

"Lance." My voice was low and gentle.

"No. You were right. I should have listened. I should have pushed my insecurities aside, and opened my eyes. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

My heart broke when he turned his watery gaze up to me. I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him close, as I ran a comforting hand through the back of his hair. "Everythings going to be ok Lance. We'll move him in with us. We'll help him through this."

I pulled away and wiped the tears from his angelic face, before placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "We'll get through this. As long as we stick together, we can help pull him back up."

He nodded before turning back to the bed, taking the limp hand back into his. I watched as he pressed his lips to the back of the hand, and just held it there. tears still dtreaming down his face. He looked younger then his 22 years also. Knees pulled up to his chest, as he wears a sweatshirt that swallows him. Tears conitinue to stream down his rosey cheeks. His hair messy on top of his head, like he normally wears it, but this time not being styled to wear it that way, but from sitting exactly where he is for the last 72 hours.

I pulled a chair up next to his, and sat down, pulling one of his hand away from the bed, and lacing it with my own. Bringing it to my own lips. "He's going to be ok baby. The doctor's just want to get him hydrated and some nutrition into his system, then we can take him home."

"I know."

I squeezed his hand and turned back to the bed, to be met with a weak gaze of dull blue. I gave a weak smile. "Hey Justin."

He just blinked up at us. Which is understandable, since he had a tube running down his throat. "Lance and I were just talking about when you got out of here. We'd like you to move in with us for a little while. Would you like that?"

He blinked again, before giving a very very small nod.

"We're going to get through this Justy. Together."